


Healing

by potentiality_26



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Harry Lives, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Past Abuse, M/M, Minor Injuries, Misunderstandings, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:05:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7813570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potentiality_26/pseuds/potentiality_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Eggsy was a spy; it was his job to get in and get out without starting anything with anyone, and unlike Harry he was actually pretty good at that.  It was rare that Eggsy got into a real fight in the field, and rarer still that he ended up seriously hurt- but it did happen.  The first few times it happened, he’d told his mother that he’d been in a minor car crash, then a mugging, and then- as he started scraping the bottom of the excuse barrel- he had caught himself actually thinking about telling her that he’d run into a door or tripped down the stairs.  </i>
</p><p><i>That was when he realized he had a problem.</i>  </p><p>Eggsy has a system for when he gets injured in the field.  Today it's gone a little bit... awry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure this plot has been done before, but hopefully I put an interesting spin on it. Written as an H/C bingo cross-square extra for "wild card" (hiding an injury or illness) and "touch-starved".
> 
> Not Brit-picked.

When Harry opened the door, Eggsy smiled even though it hurt.  He was always happy to see Harry, and at the moment Harry looked even better than usual.  His warm eyes were so much clearer when he didn’t have the glasses on, and he was down to his shirt-sleeves.  He had the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, and you can bet that the sight of Harry’s forearms- the largest amount of his skin that Eggsy had yet gotten to see- would have made Eggsy swoon like a Victorian maiden if he wasn’t so exhausted that he’d probably just end up lying passed out on Harry’s doorstep. 

Harry’s face contorted into this painfully gentle expression.  He said, “Come in,” and stepped aside.  When Eggsy obeyed Harry took his jacket off for him, careful but efficient.  He hung it up and then rested a bracing hand on Eggsy’s elbow. 

“That bad, huh?” Eggsy hadn’t looked in the mirror yet, but he'd had a feeling.

Harry sat Eggsy down on the arm of the couch and produced some ice.  “Well, it’s not good,” he admitted, pressing the icepack to the side of Eggsy’s face, where the worst of it was.  He gave a little sympathetic hiss as he did so. 

Eggsy snorted and lifted a hand to hold the pack too.  His fingers tangled with Harry’s longer ones until Harry released it.  “That what a gentleman says to a guy who’s been beaten to a pulp?”

“Perhaps not,” Harry demurred, his eyes cataloguing Eggsy’s injuries with a heaviness that Eggsy could almost feel.  “May I?” he asked on the heels of that thought, and when Eggsy nodded Harry’s ice-cooled fingertips brushed delicately over his split lip.  “I would guess there was more to it than a few bruises, though.  You took longer than usual to get here.”

Eggsy slumped backward with a deep sigh.  “It’s so fucking stupid,” he said, because it was.  Eggsy was a spy; it was his job to get in and get out without starting anything with anyone, and unlike Harry he was actually pretty good at that.  It was rare that Eggsy got into a real fight in the field, and rarer still that he ended up seriously hurt- but it did happen.  The first few times it happened, he’d told his mother that he’d been in a minor car crash, then a mugging, and then- as he started scraping the bottom of the excuse barrel- he had caught himself actually thinking about telling her that he’d run into a door or tripped down the stairs. 

That was when he realized he had a problem. 

So, he started telling her he’d be away for longer than he actually was and recuperating at Harry’s house instead.

It had been a little awkward at first- Eggsy always convinced he was imposing, reluctant to let Harry look after him, worried that some kind of other shoe was about to drop- but in time things had gotten more comfortable.  In time Eggsy had also gotten used to not coming home and checking in on his little family right away- but even so he sometimes made mistakes, showing up at the house or his mum’s work before a black eye had completely faded or while he still had a faint hitch in his step.   

It had never been as bad as this, though.  Eggsy’s latest mission had kept him in London, so by the time the Kingsman doctors concluded that it looked worse than it was and that after a few days’ rest Eggsy would be fine he hadn’t crashed from the adrenaline high yet.  That was when he noticed that he’d left his old phone at home.  No one really called him on it anymore except his mum or Jamal or Ryan, but Eggsy still liked to have it with him while he was staying at Harry’s, and he hadn’t been able to think of a reason not to pop home and get it- until he’d seen his mum walking toward him down the street and noticed how she looked at him.

And, in hindsight, turning and running away hadn’t exactly helped Eggsy’s case, but that was what he did.

Harry sighed when Eggsy related the whole business to him.  “I’m afraid I’m not sure what to do about your mother,” he said.  “But I would be happy to pick up the phone for you.”

Eggsy nodded, only a little reluctantly.

Harry gave him a gentle smile.  “Take a shower and then get some rest, and I’ll go.”

The ice had helped Eggsy wake up enough that he wasn’t worried he’d keel over any second anymore, so he said, “I’m okay, Harry.  You don’t need to wait around.”

Harry’s smile softened further.  “I’ll see you tucked in first.”

And that would have been a lot nicer to hear if Harry wasn’t so… parental about it.  Once Eggsy had grown accustomed to it- to Harry doing little things for him, Harry looking after him, Harry _liking_ to look after him- it wasn’t how much Harry cared that overwhelmed Eggsy anymore, it was how much Eggsy _wanted_ him to. 

Eggsy thought it might never have been easy for him to accept that it was okay to enjoy it so much when Harry touched his face or took him by the arm or gave him a hug.  He thought he might have always gotten scared that he’d mess it all up somehow.  But he was also falling for Harry; he had been since the 24 hours before the final test- before, probably, but that was when he realized.  Which meant that the way he hungered for Harry’s touch wasn’t just him being a kid who’d had too little affection in his life, and it wasn't just him needing contact- a human connection- after a rough mission.  Harry probably thought that was all it was though, and if- _when_ \- he realized that he was wrong he might not want to do it anymore. 

Eggsy shook his head at himself.  No- Harry definitely wouldn’t want to do it anymore. 

He went to take his shower, stripping out of his suit and letting the hot water soothe his aching muscles.  When he was done Eggsy pulled on the robe Harry kept in the house just for him and made his way back into the living room. 

He flopped back down on the couch.  The shower had made him even sleepier, so he let himself doze a bit.  He could sense exactly where Harry was, puttering around the kitchen a little more and then settling briefly at the side of the couch, near Eggsy's head.  “There’s water, more ice and some painkillers here if you need them,” Harry said.  Eggsy opened one eye and saw Harry pointing at the table by the couch with an elegant finger.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

He heard Harry huff out a laugh.  “The keys are in your pocket, yes?”

“Yeah.”

Harry slipped away without much more talk, and with him gone the time passed quickly as Eggsy fell in and out of wakefulness.  Eggsy’s house wasn’t far, and Harry was back soon- though not as soon as Eggsy might have hoped.  He murmured Harry’s name and mustered the energy to peer up at him as he placed Eggsy’s phone on the coffee table and settled on the side of the couch again. 

“You okay?” Eggsy asked, blinking sleepily. 

“Am _I_ okay?”  Harry sounded amused. 

“You look tired.”

Harry let out a long breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I am rather,” he admitted.  “I had a bit of a run-in with your mother, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sorry,” Eggsy said, his gut twisting unpleasantly.  “I shoulda thought that she might go home.”  It wasn’t much of an apology, but he scooted back so Harry could sit on the couch properly, tucked between Eggsy and the cushions at the arm. 

“It’s quite all right, Eggsy,” Harry said as he sat down.  “Only… she misunderstood the situation.  A bit.”

And Eggsy could hear in Harry’s tone exactly what she misunderstood.  Eggsy already knew that his mum thought there was something going on between him and Harry.  And sure, there was- but it wasn’t sexual, no matter how much Eggsy wished it was.  For the most part Eggsy was content to take what he could get where Harry was concerned and let his mother make whatever assumptions suited her- but given all the bruises, and the secrets and the lying and the excuses, it was unfortunate but not too surprising if she had jumped to a very wrong conclusion about what was happening in Eggsy’s life at the moment. 

Eggsy winced at the thought.  Harry didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his mother’s wrath, not any time but especially not just because he’d been doing Eggsy a favor.  “Sorry,” he said again.

 “It isn’t your fault.”  Harry sighed.  “At any rate, my efforts to disabuse her of the notion were unsuccessful, and her opinion of me is now even lower than it was before.”  He laid an apologetic hand on Eggsy’s shoulder.  “I know you’ve always hoped we might come to be on better terms, she and I.”

“Yeah.”  Of course Eggsy had hoped that the two people he loved most in the world would at some point be able to carry on a civil conversation, but Harry started out bad when he came into their lives to tell Eggsy’s mum her husband was dead, and it had only gotten worse when she developed the impression that he and Eggsy were sleeping together.  Now that she also thought he’d actually raise a hand to Eggsy, an unlikelihood had become more or less an impossibility.  “But it is what it is, right?”

“Yes, I suppose so.  Although…”  Harry passed his thumb over his eyebrow.  “On my way back, I had a thought.”

“What?”

“Your mother is an intelligent woman.  Given what happened with your father there must be a part of her that already suspects, deep down, what’s really going on in your life.”

“Then why would she assume-” Eggsy found he couldn’t say the words- “ _that_?”

“I don’t know.  It certainly wouldn’t be… preferable- but perhaps she thinks she has a better chance of saving you from me than from a lifestyle you’ve clearly chosen for yourself if you’ve come this far.  Now, it would take a vote to get you clearance- but provided she is as good at keeping secrets as you are, and you thought it would help you both, you might be allowed to tell her the truth.”

“She is,” Eggsy said slowly.  “Good at keeping secrets, I mean.  I ain’t so sure about the other thing, but I’ll think about it, yeah?” 

“Of course.  Take all the time you need.”

And Eggsy would think about it.  He remembered how she was about him being in the marines and he didn’t want a repeat of that- and if she would almost rather he had a shit boyfriend that wasn’t a good sign- but the last time he’d had this fight with her had been before V-Day.  If that day had taught anybody anything, it was that everything could go to shit at any time.  Eggsy had been in danger for most of his life, and even with Dean out of the picture he still was.  If he had to get hurt, he’d rather do it keeping the world- and his mum and sister with it- safe.  He wanted to be able to share that part of himself with his family.  He didn’t want to have to lie.  “You’d help me bring it up to the others?  If I decided to try?”

“Naturally,” Harry said.  “You know, most of the Kingsman of my generation either came from families that were already part of the organization or had no real family to speak of.  It has never been much of an issue before.  But I think others with needs like yours might speak up if we at least tried.”

“Yeah,” Eggsy agreed, and went quiet.  It hurt to think that almost everyone he knew from work- including Harry- had simply never had anyone to hide bruises from.  

“Can I get you anything in the meantime?” Harry asked after a while. 

“A new head?  I think this one’s fucked.”

He could hear the laughter in Harry’s voice when he replied, “I’m afraid I can’t oblige.  However, I will get you some more ice.”

“Okay,” Eggsy murmured. 

At some point, after Harry’s mission for more ice but before the pills he convinced Eggsy to take kicked in fully, Eggsy fell asleep. 

When he woke up a few hours later, Eggsy felt a bit better.  Harry had showered and returned in that time, and he smelled like soap and expensive shampoo and _Harry_.  He was back in his spot between Eggsy and the side of the couch, his arm extended along it to position the last rays of sunlight on the pages of his book.  His other hand was on the nape of Eggsy’s neck, stroking lightly as if he was a cat, and Eggsy’s head was against his hip.  Eggsy moved as little as possible, turning just enough to see how the evening light hit Harry’s face.  Wet and left to its own devices, Harry’s hair was wonderfully curly, and it fell over his forehead just touched with gold.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked without looking at him.

“Better,” Eggsy said.  Confused, though that was hardly new.  It wasn’t the first time Harry had touched him like this, and as much as he loved it Eggsy had never completely understood _why_.  Why Harry let him get so close if he wasn’t meant to become addicted to it, to _Harry_.  “You’ll ruin your eyesight if you keep that up.”

Harry snorted and closed the book, setting it aside.  His fingers were still absently running through the short hairs at the back of Eggsy’s head.

Without meaning to, Eggsy squirmed faintly under his touch. 

“Forgive me,” Harry murmured, hand stilling.  “You were dreaming.  It seemed to help.”

By ‘dreaming’ Harry probably meant having a nightmare, and there were lots of things it could’ve been about, but- “I don’t remember it.”  Eggsy swallowed and nudged Harry’s hand with his head.  “It’s… it’s okay, Harry, I…”  Eggsy couldn’t finish, already afraid that he’d overstepped. 

Slowly, Harry started petting him again.  Eggsy could feel the calluses on Harry’s fingers and palm from years handling every conceivable weapon.  Eggsy never imagined he could ever feel this safe with the most dangerous man he’d ever met- but then, he never imagined he’d meet someone like Harry at all.  He’d never imagined someone like him could exist.  And thanks to him, Eggsy was pretty dangerous himself these days. 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked quietly.  Eggsy knew Harry had his own demons, knew how keenly aware Harry was of the line between man and weapon, and that it haunted him how easily he could be made to cross it. 

Harry let out a long breath.  “It’s not entirely for your benefit that I’d like you to be able to tell your mother the truth.  I would hate for _that_ -” and Harry put so much leashed fury into the word- “to become your cover story.  And you’re not the only one who hopes that your mother and I could come to be on better terms one day.”

Eggsy actually thought that it was still a possibility, if he could and did tell her the truth after all.  It would be a process, warming his mother to the life he was living now- and it would take longer still to warm her to Harry, but after copious reminders that- while not a saint- Harry was someone who meant a lot to Eggsy and vice versa, she might start to thaw.  He knew that the day Harry and his mum agreed on something he would be in trouble, but he was actually looking forward to it.     

“And the thought of-” Harry continued, closing his eyes and biting his lip hard- “I would die before I hurt you.”

“I know.”  Eggsy really did.  It would take another run in with Valentine’s SIM cards- or something like them- for Harry to do anything like that, and if that ever happened they were both pretty fucked anyway.

Very gently, Harry’s fingers slid along Eggsy’s jaw, traveling from the back of his skull to the tip of his chin, nudging it gently upward.  “I fancy I hate to see you injured almost as much as she does.”

“Only almost?” Eggsy asked.  He had seen how Harry was capable of fussing over him; from the beginning, he had struggled to remind himself that it meant nothing beyond the fact that Harry was fond of him, or- worse- that Harry felt so guilty for not being there for Lee Unwin’s son over all those years with Dean that he was trying to make up for it now. Eggsy knew that thought was uncharitable, that Harry had more than proven that he cared for Eggsy on his own terms, but that didn’t always keep the doubt from creeping in. 

Harry shrugged one shoulder.  “You don’t need my protection.  It doesn’t do to lose sight of that.”

Eggsy knew it was a compliment.  He knew, too, that it was true.  He had dispatched the people who did this to him quite handily, and he had done the same to everyone from his old life who had ever doubted that he could.  Harry had given him the tools and then backed off, which was probably just what a mentor was supposed to do.  It didn’t stop Eggsy from wishing that Harry could come to be more than proud of him.  That if Harry knew Eggsy didn’t need Harry to take care of him, he might also know why Eggsy let him do it anyway- and that maybe, just maybe, he let Eggsy come back for the same reason.  “You think you’re in danger of forgetting?” Eggsy asked. 

“I think I never forget everything you’ve been through.  I certainly never forget how strong and brave and good you are.”  Harry’s fingertips, so light Eggsy could only feel them because he knew they were there, traced the shape of a bruise.  “It doesn’t keep me from wanting to kill everyone who has ever laid a finger on you.”   

And knowing that that wasn’t a very good thing to want didn’t stop Eggsy from feeling like there was a thread from Harry’s fingers to his cock, and Harry had just pulled it taut. 

Eggsy hissed softly, lips parting of their own accord as Harry stroked over his cheekbone lightly before going still. 

“Don’t stop,” Eggsy whispered, and it was far too easy to say the words.  After so long keeping as close to Harry as he could justify without giving himself away, after so long convinced that if he ever did he would lose all the little touches and gestures he had begun to depend on, this moment shouldn’t have come so quietly.   

But it was Harry’s breath that hitched that time.  Harry’s fingers that trembled as they moved again, tracing a path down to Eggsy’s mouth. It would take only the smallest motion for Harry to push those fingers between Eggsy’s lips, as Eggsy had imagined him doing far too often.

Harry didn’t take that final step, though, so Eggsy spoke against Harry’s fingertips: “Harry, do you- do you want me?”  Every word was like a tiny kiss. 

“My boy,” Harry said, voice suddenly coming like he had gravel in his throat.  “I’m not sure I have ever wanted anything more.”

It hit Eggsy harder than any punch he’d ever received.  “Hey,” he coughed out, noticing that Harry’s other hand had a punishing grip on the cushion it was resting on, and that hand should really have been on him, shouldn’t it?  “Leave the couch out of this, it don’t love you like I do.”

Eggsy’s heart stuttered in his chest when he realized what word he had just used, but Harry only laughed softly and loosened his fist.  “Forgive me,” he murmured, bringing it up to touch Eggsy’s face as well, and his fingers were so gentle they might have been a breeze over Eggsy’s skin.  “I did say that I would die before I hurt you.”

“You kissing me ain’t gonna hurt hardly enough to matter,” Eggsy said, knowing- at last- exactly what Harry was thinking.  

“Ah,” Harry murmured, eyes gleaming, fingertips brushing over the split in Eggsy’s lip, “thank you.  But I want more than to not hurt you enough to matter.  Surely after a year and a half we could wait a few more days.”

Eggsy calculated.  “How'd you know when I realized how I felt about you?”  It had been a year and a half almost exactly since Harry had iced the bruises on Eggsy’s wrists from his stint tied to the train tracks and Eggsy had listened to him tutting over every mark and finally admitted to himself that he had more than just a little crush on his mentor. 

Harry blinked.  “I didn’t.  That was simply when I realized I was falling for you.”

“Bullshit,” Eggsy managed to say, even as his stomach twisted itself into knots at the idea that Harry was in love with him too. 

“In fact no.”  Harry’s smile turned wry, and Eggsy remembered that look.  Remembered it from when he and Merlin and Roxy had found Harry- alive thank God and mostly well- in a Kentucky hospital and they had traded apologies for the things they had said to each other the last time they spoke. _You must know that you… well, you mean a great deal to me_ , Harry had said, with that same almost-smile, and Eggsy had nodded jerkily and changed the subject.  It had been easy enough to forgive Harry, but not quite so easy to believe him- not when it also meant believing that Harry had looked at him like that just before he walked away not because he didn’t care, but because he cared too much.  

Now it wasn’t hard to believe at all.  Because now Eggsy understood that at some point the night before they fought Harry might have looked at him and admitted- perhaps just as reluctantly as Eggsy had- to himself that he felt so much more than he had intended to when they met.  What must it have been like for Harry, to watch it unravel?  Or to look down the barrel of a gun and wonder if he would take all he really felt to the grave? 

 _Terrible_.  It must have been terrible. 

“Christ, Harry,” Eggsy said quietly.  

“Shh,” Harry murmured, brushing still-damp hair from Eggsy’s forehead with such awed tenderness on his face- and Eggsy had seen that look too, so many times, and always dismissed it.  “Just rest for a while, hmm?  For me?”

 _For Harry._   “A few more days, huh?” At the moment, Eggsy didn’t want to wait another minute.  But he knew Harry and he knew his own body, and he wasn’t exactly in good shape right now.  He didn’t hate the idea of Harry treating him like glass, laying him out and pressing feather-light kisses to every cut and bruise.  He flushed to think that Harry might sometimes have pictured himself doing just that when Eggsy came to him like this.  There would be opportunities for that, Eggsy told himself- but not now.  Not the first time, not after they had both waited so long- and apparently so needlessly.  “All right,” he said.  “But you better not kick me out before then just ‘cos you suddenly doubt your ability to be a gentleman.”

“Of course not,” Harry said imperiously.  “My ability to be a gentleman never fails me.  And-” he brushed his fingers across Eggsy’s cheek- “I do not want you out of my sight.”

Eggsy smiled and hardly felt a sting. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come see me on [tumblr](http://potentiality-26.tumblr.com/).


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